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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24027007">Fairshaw Week Prompts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toshimasa/pseuds/Toshimasa'>Toshimasa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack Treated Seriously, Domestic, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Negotiations, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Questionable Bewerages, Rescue, Shaw is always tired, i think, who can tell with this pairing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:27:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,084</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24027007</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toshimasa/pseuds/Toshimasa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>My contribution to Fairshaw Week. Because despite not having written for years I've come to love those two more than I though I ever would. </p><p>Day One - Ropes: Shaw finds himself literally on the ropes. Flynn's rescue efforts don't go quite as planned.<br/>Day Two - Day Off: Shaw doesn't like getting the day off, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't take it.<br/>Day Three - Drink: After a stressful day Shaw takes Flynn to his favourite tavern.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fairshaw Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Day one - Ropes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm way behind on this, especially since this might be a bit long for a simple one-per-day prompt, and I have no beta, but I am having fun, so whatever.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As far as bad days went, Spymaster Shaw has had worse. Signing a death warrant for someone you loved came to mind. Or spending months in captivity of the Burning Legion, that could safely be considered the worst experience of his life. That said, with a bar that high, even less bad days were still rather miserable. With all his years of experience, he had still made a mistake that might have been avoidable if he had bothered to gather more second-hand information and as if that wasn’t enough he found his backup-plan not actionable. As a result he found himself tied to a (mostly decorative) mast in a small pirate town by means of the largest and most varied collection of ropes he had ever seen while getting bemusedly curious looks from an orcish wyvern handler. No one had recognized him yet, but that was only a matter of time. His disguise had necessitated not carrying many hidden knives, but even if he could have reached his last one, some of the ropes wrapped around the mast and him were thick enough that he suspected they were meant for heavy anchors and the like so he wouldn’t have been able to cut them anyway. His body was in fact completely covered in ropes from his chin to his ankles so moving was not really possible at all. They had really gone all out, aside the aforementioned hawsers there was everything from climbing and wrangling ropes to parcel strings and to top it off anything that was thin enough for it had been strung with an excessive and mismatched assortment of bells that was guaranteed to make an awful racket at any attempt to free him, made by himself or otherwise.</p><p>It had been known for a while that the Horde used Plunder Harbour as a base and seemed to have an understanding with the pirates there. With the only serious attempt to oust them from there failed it had been decided that for the time being, it was at least advantageous to know where they were and the harbour in question was too small for a large-scale staging ground anyway. Now that the king had set events in motion that could possibly end the war (at least for a while) it had presented an opportunity. The Fogsail Freebooters were a group of humans affiliated with the Horde. If someone could join them, they could gather information by directly speaking to Horde personnel in a friendly context, an option rarely available to SI:7. And with many of his senior agents lost to the Legion or, more recently, the Horde, and the potential danger and importance of this mission, he thought it best to undertake it himself. And it seemed to have gone well for a while. Shaw knew his Kul Tiran accent to be flawless and he even got himself a pair of cutlasses and left his daggers on the Wind’s Redemption. He had walked up to the little port town, had introduced himself as Eddie Tradewind who wanted to join the Fogsail, answered a few questions and accepted the welcome-grog they offered him. Only that the grog in question had a strange aftertaste and knocked him out almost instantly and he woke up wrapped in a nautical museum’s worth of ropes. His backup-plan had involved smoke bombs and a grappling hook and heavily relied on being awake. Worst of all, he had no idea what his mistake had been.</p><p>He was sure no one had recognized him. They would have handed him over to the Horde, for one, and the various Horde personnel seemed at least as confused about the over-the-top bindings on him as he was. More likely there was a sort of protocol to applying to a pirate group that he didn’t know about and had unwittingly breached. Or there was a tradition like this. He had absolutely no idea and it rankled him. He should have gathered more information about the Fogsail. He should have made inquiries. He could have talked to Captain Fairwind. If he was honest with himself, this was likely why he hadn’t done his research. The thought of involving Faiwind with his professional dealings unsettled him in a way he couldn’t quite make sense of, but he had given in to it and jeopardized his mission. And he couldn’t even be angry at the scoundrel because he only had himself to blame. He could only hope that his agents came looking for him (which they likely wouldn’t for days) before he was recognized or otherwise killed. If he had been prone to cursing, now would have certainly been the time.</p><hr/><p>Early in the afternoon the last bit of his luck seemed to run out. A Horde ship anchored in the harbour and off stepped a shadowhunter who cheerfully greeted the pirates he passed and made for the Inn. Trailing him at some distance and with no real intent was Lillian Voss. And extravagantly tied up as he was she naturally spotted him immediately. Shaw suspected that the incredulity with which she stared at him was the only thing that kept her from laughing.</p><p>“Someone you know?” A large, dark-skinned Kul Tiran woman in a coat and a hat that denoted high rank among the pirates had come up from the bridge that connected to the upper part of the port town.</p><p>Voss turned to her. “Ah, Captain Owings. No, I’ve never seen this man. I just wondered if this isn’t a bit… excessive?”</p><p>The pirate Captain grinned. “Maybe. But I’m not taking any chances with spies. Don’t have confirmation yet, but since there are few other groups beside us not affiliated with Ashvane’s ilk, he’s likely with them in some way.”</p><p>“Oh?” Voss was not only covering for him, but also fishing for information. An interesting turn of events, but Shaw knew better than to count on her being on his side.</p><p>“Yeah, walked in here with his back straight, talking way too smoothly for a newbie and having certainly used his knives to great effect before. I know an old seadog when I see one but he claimed to be new and wanting to join up. No doubt someone sent him to sniff around and maybe stab someone in the back. Probably the Irontide, they could afford an expert like this one.”</p><p>So his pirate disguise had been too good. That was hardly a comfort given that he should have considered this.</p><p>“I see. Why the bells then”, Voss asked.</p><p>“Well, with his silver tongue there is little point questioning him, but he’s likely valuable to whoever sent him and if they try to free him, we can catch ’em red-handed.”</p><p>Shaw had to hand it to this pirate captain, that was rather solid reasoning, and might even work in his case. It was becoming less hard to believe that the Fogsail might have negotiated something with the Horde that was largely beneficial to them.</p><p>“Ah, smart”, Voss said. “Ty’jin is waiting for you in the inn, captain.”</p><p>“What is it he wanted to see me about?”</p><p>“Oh, nothing immediately important, he just wants to keep you informed on some things.” Voss gestured dismissively in a way that made Shaw suspect she was downplaying whatever it was. “I’ll be going now, have some places to stake out.”</p><p>Captain Owings nodded and turned towards the inn. Voss shot Shaw an unreadable look before slinking away.</p><hr/><p>Being wrapped in rope beyond mobility upright with a large piece of wood against your back was an increasingly unpleasant disposition as time went on. Towards the evening a pirate came over to ungently pour some water down his throat and then leave without a word. As darkness fell Shaw was unbearably stiff but nonetheless craned his neck to assess the Port’s security. It seemed the Horde left this largely to the pirates as all soldiers he could see went off to sleep or drink somewhere. Guards where posted down by the ships and presumably up on the road into Tiragarde, but nowhere near his general vicinity. All the bells made that unnecessary anyway. The night lacked the rowdiness associated with one in a pirate town, but it was not hard to imagine that Captain Owings made sure drunken revelries only happened occasionally. With no actionable way of escaping Shaw allowed himself to slump into the ropes and doze off in the relative quiet. No point in forcing himself awake at the cost of his wits and strength.</p><hr/><p>Shaw awoke to someone poking him in the cheek, accompanied by a whispered “Shaw, hey Shaw!”</p><p>He had slept only lightly and his training kicked in swiftly, so it took him no time at all to remember where he was and to assess that the excessive rope collection was still intact and in place. It took a moment longer to put together the shadowed silhouette right in front of him and the familiar voice as Captain Flynn Fairwind. It was cloudy and the middle of the night and they were in a hostile pirate town. The realisation of Fairwind being here had an effect like being splashed with a bucket of ice-cold water.</p><p>“Hang in there mate, I’ll cut you loose”, Faiwind mumbled, taking a knife to the ropes.</p><p>“Stop it”, hissed someone Shaw didn’t immediately see or recognize, “they’re strung with bells!”</p><p>“<em>What</em>?” Fairwind shout-whispered.</p><p>The other person came into Shaw’s view and he came to the conclusion that this must be his worst day in a good long while. Yutar Shadereaver had white hair, almost-white skin and still white-glowing eyes so, despite her dark pirate-getup that she probably had donned just for this occasion, her face stood out against the darkness ominously like a wraith. Unlike Fairwind she would not tease him about this incident, but also unlike him she would use this against him for any given motive if she could.</p><p>“I can see in the dark, and I see that he is wrapped up completely in about 50 ropes of widely differing strengths, and the thinner ones are strung with bells”, she explained through her teeth.</p><p>“That seems a touch extreme”, Fairwind said, bewildered.</p><p>“If we had backup I’d say cause a distraction”, she said ignoring the comment, “but as it is I’d say keep an eye out and hope I can pry them off without making noise.”</p><p>Faiwind quietly assented and moved aside. And so Shaw found himself unable to move, with a grimly determined looking night elf looming over him with a knife. Knowing that she planned to help him was slightly offset by the knowledge that Shadereaver, despite the rapport they had, would not hesitate to stab him if it served her ends or if he annoyed her enough. He wondered how on Azeroth she had come to work together with Fairwind of all people, but then she did seem to have a soft spot for the guileless and intrepid.</p><p>She tried to grab a single rope to keep it still while cutting it, but with how tightly they were mushed together, that was only the start of the difficulty. After a bit of fumbling, she had cut the rope and tried to grab the other end, but didn’t manage to get hold of it and a number of mismatched bells clattered noisily to the ground.</p><p>“Blimey” Fairwind sighed. Shadereaver cursed under her breath. Footsteps and a door could be heard and Shaw had a sinking feeling as to why the night had been so quiet.</p><p>“We should…” Fairwind whispered but that was all he got out before a blend was removed from a lantern and they found himself surrounded by about 20 Fogsail Freebooters with Captain Owings herself shining a lamp directly at Fairwinds face. Shadereaver was nowhere in sight, having no doubt vanished or shadowmelded.</p><p>Owings eyebrows climbed under her hat. “Well, that is not who I expected to find here.”</p><p>Fairwind grinned nervously and strained to reach a chipper tone. “Owings! How good to see you, it has been ages. And…” His eyes darted across her hat and saber. “And you’re Captain now! Congratulations!”</p><p>The pirate rolled her eyes in a manner Shaw found painfully relatable. “Save the pleasantries Fairwind. Where is your accomplice?”</p><p>“Right here”</p><p>With a telltale clicking sound Shadereaver materialized right next to her, the barrel of her pistol pointed point-blank to the captain’s temple.</p><p>Fairwind seemed alarmed by this. “Now, now, let’s not…”</p><p>“He belongs to us”, Shadereaver hissed, ignoring him again. “You will let us leave with him and there will be no trouble for you.”</p><p>“Do you take me for the kind of woman who is afraid of a pistol girl?”</p><p>Normally Owings would make a fatal mistake calling a centuries-old Kaldorei combatant a girl as a human, but if Shadereaver had ever been prone to fits of racial pride, she had dropped the habit long ago. She simply grinned, exposing her fangs.</p><p>“Afraid? No. But I do take you for a smart one. Smart enough to realize it is better to let us go rather than lose half your crew to me before I drop.”</p><p>Shaw knew it was not an idle boast. These pirates were bold and resourceful, but not exactly well trained fighters. Shadereaver was all of the above, with centuries of experience besides. Captain Owings on the other hand didn’t appear particularly impressed, nor did her Freebooters. A fight would break out every moment now. But then Fairwind chimed in again.</p><p>“Ladies, ladies, this is really not necessary. Shady, if you would please put down that pistol.”</p><p>Both women looked at him affronted but if that intimidated him, he didn’t show it.</p><p>“Look, Owings, Mate, this is all a misunderstanding. I wouldn’t have snuck in here at night if I had known you’re in charge here now. Wouldn’t have been much use to try the reasonable approach with Rhenik and all that, but since I was wrong about that and I’m really sorry too, maybe we can parlay like civilized pirates? For old time’s sake?”</p><p>For what it was worth Owings’ expression was somewhat less hostile now. Shadereaver shot her a glance, then Fairwind. Finally she pointedly took a step back lowering her gun, communicating that she would let him handle the situation. Owings relaxed her posture somewhat, but still regarded Fairwind with suspicion.</p><p>“Alright Fairwind, I hope you can explain why this cur walked in here claiming he wanted to join up and why we should let him go with you. Is he with your crew? I thought you weren’t in the business anymore.”</p><p>Dread gathered in Shaw’s stomach. Fairwind was good at evading, but he was a terrible liar and whatever story he would come up with would no doubt be completely outrageous and undermine its purpose in any case as there was no denying Shaw had come here under pretence.</p><p>Fairwind took a deep breath. “Alright. Alright, I’ll tell you everything. But you need to promise me that you’ll hear me out.”</p><p>“Aye, that is acceptable.” Owings eyes narrowed. “So long as I don’t catch you lying.”</p><p>“Even if I was in the habit of lying” Fairwind sight, still lacking any of his usual bravado, “there is probably no convincing lie I could tell that looks better than the truth anyways.”</p><p>With that Shaw realized that he actually planned to tell the truth and try to capitalize on the impression of an honest broker. Despite himself he was impressed. While the odds weren’t good, it was likely their best bet.</p><p>The former pirate cleared his throat. “So, you know how I went legit, right? Too much trouble with Harlan, no use in freebooting if you can’t do it your way and all that. And the Harbourmaster of Boralus offering to vouch for you isn’t exactly an opportunity to pass up under the circumstances. I mean, that is basically why you have this agreement with the Horde, right? Oh, don’t look so surprised, I still hear a few things. You didn’t want to fall under Harlan and Ashvane’s influence and the Horde wanted to use your harbour so you told them they can if they protect you from takeover. That was the deal, right?”</p><p>“Aye”, said Owings cautiously, “though Rhenik wanted to sell us out to Ashvane. The Horde backed our mutiny too.”</p><p>“Ah. Okay. Nice of them. No judgement and all, I’m sure they’re not so bad when they’re not trying to stab you. Better than Ashvane anyhow.”</p><p>“Aye. Now get to the point.”</p><p>“Right. Yes. Well, at the time when old Cryrus Crestfall let the Alliance anchor in Boralus I was collecting evidence against Ashvane for him so I kinda ended up involved with that as well and…”</p><p>“Hold up”, exclaimed a man standing at 5 o’ clock from Owings, “this bilge rat is with the <em>Alliance</em>?!”</p><p>“Really now?” Owings looked annoyed. “Fairwind, I know a Kul Tiran pirate when I see one. And hear one for that matter.”</p><p>“Hear…? Mattie, have you been faking a Kul Tiran accent?” Fairwind fixed Shaw with a loom of mock-outrage.</p><p>The spymaster sighed. “Yes Fair…” His voice gave out as he had not spoken at all since his captivity and he needed to clear his throat. “Yes Faiwind, I faked a Kul Tiran accent”, he said, taking care to show both his exasperation and his native Stormwind accent.</p><p>The pirates stared at him in astonishment. More of them had trickled in to watch the show and by now most of the crew in port should be assembled. It was a nice change from all the nasty grins they had shot him during the day.</p><p>“Blimey”, Owings said, “and I was so sure he was a rat from another pirate crew.”</p><p>“Yeah”, Fairwind smiled shakily. “Mattie here is with SI:7 and he is very good at his job.”</p><p>There was another beat of silence. Then Owings spoke again.</p><p>“Well Fairwind, I promised to hear you out so here’s your chance to explain what an SI:7 spy wanted in my port and why I should let him go with you instead of handing him over to the Horde.”</p><p>Shaw noted Owings’ quick assessment of Fairwind’s earlier reasoning. She was not to be crossed lightly and a lesson in caution if Kul Tiran pirate captains tended to be similarly cunning. He made a mental not to ask Fairwind about this.</p><p>“Ah, yeah. You know they knew you’ve been here and allied with the Horde for a while, right? And they never really tried to squash you except that one time when they found out and that hasn’t changed, just so you know. They think it’s fine so long as they know where the Horde is. Especially since the Alliance king wants to make peace soon anyways if things work out.”</p><p>While he realized that angle might save them, Shaw did found himself annoyed at Fairwind talking so freely about this, but his glare was widely ignored. Owings on the other hand seemed rather interested and gestured for him to go on.</p><p>“Yeah, apparently there will be a civil war soon. Some Horde people think that their current Warchief makes to much war or whatever, so they want to overthrow her. And the Alliance will help them and make peace if they win.”</p><p>There was some disbelieving murmur among the pirates, but Owings just watched Fairwind intently.</p><p>“Go on” she said.</p><p>“Well, this is all well and good, but the Alliance doesn’t really know how widely supported or even known the rebellion is and it’s kinda difficult to ask what with still technically being at war, so they thought hey, there is a bunch of humans allied with the Horde. If we had someone there, then we could ask. And that really is all there is to it. It wasn’t against the Fogsail at all, Mattie just… couldn’t just walk up to you and say ‘hey, I’m with the Alliance, might I gather some intel here’, that would have been stupid, right?”</p><p>“This is ridiculous”, the man behind Owings muttered, “does he really expect us to believe…”</p><p>“It’s true Killian”, Owings interjected. “At least the part about the Warchief facing mutiny soon. It’s what Ty’jin wanted to talk to me about today.”</p><p>Killian’s mouth dropped open. “Oh.”</p><p>“As for this spy supporting the Horde mutineers” she continued, “I did think the undead woman was lying when she said she didn’t know him so it’s probably true as well.”</p><p>Once again the pirates were silent.</p><p>“Tell me one thing”, Owings asked finally, “how did you know your spy friend was in trouble? I don’t think he should be missed just yet.”</p><p>“Uh…” Fairwind blurted eloquently and glanced towards Shadereaver.</p><p>The night elf gave him a small smile.</p><p>“The undead woman. Her name is Lillian Voss. Until very recently, she was an independent contractor and both our dear agent here and I have worked with her before. She sent a message along our common contacts that he was in trouble.”</p><p>“To you?” Shaw couldn’t stop himself from asking. As far as he was aware, Shadereaver and Voss had met, but weren’t particularly involved with one another.</p><p>“Not to me specifically. More a number of people from a certain… circle. I am simply the first the message has reached.”</p><p>Shaw had a vague notion as to what that meant, and now wasn’t the time anyhow.</p><p>“And you went to Captain Fairwind with this?”</p><p>“Yes?” She seemed confused as to why that wasn’t the obvious choice. “I couldn’t go to the Alliance High Command, they would have asked where the information is from, and you know how they can get about fraternization.”</p><p>Shaw decided he didn’t want to discuss Fairwind’s questionable merits as a rescue operative with an unpredictable freelancer in a harbour full of hostile pirates while she and Fairwind were rescuing him.</p><p>“So.” Owings drew attention back to herself. “You’re saying since there will be mutiny soon, I should let him go like the mutineers would want. But that would mean openly throwing my hat in with the mutineers, and me crew will be in trouble if they don’t win. Don’t you think I should just turn him over and stay out of this so that we can be in good with whoever wins?”</p><p>“No!” There was genuine panic in Fairwinds voice. “They’ll do worse than just kill him!”</p><p>He rallied somewhat but couldn’t disguise the urgency in his tone as he said: “Name your price, Captain Owings. Whatever it is, I can get it for you. Or do it for you. Anything!”</p><p>Shaw would have slapped his forehead if he could. You didn’t give such a blanco check to someone as cunning as Captain Owings. Shadereaver’s expression indicated a similar line of thought.</p><p>“Is this spy really that important to you?” There were snares in Owing’s voice.</p><p>Fairwind opened his mouth but nothing came out. It was impossible to tell if he had no answer or if he had realized his mistake. Perhaps it was both.</p><p>The Pirate regarded him critically for another moment. Then she turned to her crew.</p><p>“Now me mateys. We’ve got a vote to hold. We can either turn the spy over to the Horde and keep our heads down, or we can side with the mutineers, let the spy go, and have someone working directly with the Boralus Harbourmaster and in good with both the Proudmoore Admirality and the Alliance owe us a massive favour. What say you?”</p><p>Murmuring accompanied the pirates considering this.</p><p>“I’d say” a haggard-looking woman began, “we’ve not become freebooters to avoid risks. Turning him over would be safe, but a favour from Captain Legit here might be worth the hazard. And the Horde doesn’t need to know about the spy.”</p><p>“Question Captain”, came from further back, “would mutineering against the Warchief entail mutineering against that red-eyed taskmaster who shows up here sometimes and sneers at everyone?”</p><p>“Aye, that’s her boyfriend”, replied Owings with a grin.</p><p>That seemed to inspire some further enthusiasm in favour of mutiny.</p><p>“That rotten cur, huh”, mused a burly cannoneer. “I never liked the Proudmoores, and Lady Katherine in particular, but I thought stringing her son’s corpse up over the port was a bit much.”</p><p>“I hear a lot of talk of mutiny”, Owings concluded, “all in favour?”</p><p>A vast majority of the pirates communicated assent via various gestures, murmurs and subdued yells. Chances were they didn’t want to wake the Horde personnel.</p><p>“You’re in luck Fairwind. My crew thinks a favour from you is worth the risk. You can take your spy and go. However…” She turned to Shaw and walked up to him until they were nose to nose. “No more spies in my port. If your Alliance wants something, they are to come parlay like civilized people. Do I make myself clear?”</p><p>Shaw swallowed his pride. They had been rather lucky, all things considered.</p><p>“Yes Captain.”</p><p>“Good. Back to your stations everyone.”</p><hr/><p>It took at least half an hour for Fairwind and Shadereaver to cut all those ropes off of him, especially since they needed four hands and quite a bit of patience to pry the bells off without making too much noise and waking the Horde. All the while Owings watched them with amusement, holding her lamp but making no other move to help them. When they were finally done, Shaw stretched against his considerable stiffness.</p><p>“I am grateful for your lenience, Captain Owings. We will be on our way now.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “Get out of my harbour, spy.”</p><p>Fairwind seemed in a hurry as well. He waved to her. “I’d love to catch up sometime, but I have to be underway. See ya Captain.”</p><p>“See ya Fairwind”, she answered indulgently. “Invite me to the wedding.”</p><p>Fairwind stopped to gape at her, but Shaw grabbed his coat and dragged him along.</p><hr/><p>It turned out Shadereaver and Fairwind had left two horses about five minutes out of town. Shadereaver had also brought her battle-trained Frostsaber, which made leaving the horses there considerably less risky. Especially since the horses seemed to have no fear of big cats. When they reached Boralus, she asked for the horses back, since she had apparently borrowed them from a friend who would literally rip her head off if she didn’t bring them back safely. The night elf disappeared into the night with their mounts so Shaw was left to walk back to the harbour through Mariner’s Row with Captain Fairwind. Who, true to form, couldn’t stay silent for long without a stabby night elf to loom over him.</p><p>“So, that was quite the adventure.”</p><p>“Please refrain from making any rope-related jokes”, Shaw said, preemtively giving up on silence.</p><p>“Don’t worry mate, I’ve had enough of them for a week myself. I was going to ask about that night elf. She an ex of yours?”</p><p>“Absolutely not!” Shaw was unable to hide his horror at that particular notion, or the notion of that rumour spreading.</p><p>“Okay, okay, I just thought. Since there seems to be some, uh, history.”</p><p>“She is an independent contractor whom I tried to hire for SI:7 several years ago. But she seemingly took that as a personal insult and I have since then found some indication that she might be hiding a few things.”</p><p>“Ah. A feud then?”</p><p>“It was. But we came to an understanding when we fought the Burning Legion together.”</p><p>Fairwind nodded. “Still a bit awkward though, huh?”</p><p>“We have developed some respect for each other. She is loyal, just not to the Alliance. And very skilled. But I cannot trust her completely.”</p><p>“So, what is this about a deal then?”</p><p>“A deal?”</p><p>“She says you’re not dying on her until she fulfilled her end of some deal she had with you.”</p><p>“Ah. We made sort of a deal when this war broke out. She was convinced that the war would herald the end of Azeroth if it went on for too long, but still refused to tell me what she is hiding. She said that if I stop trying to find out and if we both live to see a more, well, stable future, she would tell me then. While I do believe she is glad to see a potential peace on the horizon, I am surprised she is that eager to keep her end.”</p><p>“I see. And the undead woman?”</p><p>“We fought against the Legion together as well. That time saw a lot of unorthodox alliances.”</p><p>Shaw wondered idly why he felt so comfortable telling Fairwind all of this, but he was too tired and frustrated to feel overly worried about it right now. He decided to ask a few questions of his own.</p><p>“So why did Shadereaver ask you for help?”</p><p>“Because I’m a former pirate I suppose. She didn’t say.”</p><p>“And you decided to help her?”</p><p>“Of course! I couldn’t just leave you there.” Fairwind seemed genuinely astonished by the question, as if it was the most self-evident thing in the world for him to have done so.</p><p>“You didn’t inform the Alliance?”</p><p>“Shady said not to, and I wasn’t going to cross her.”</p><p>Probably smart, all things considered. Shadereaver preferred peaceful solutions when it came to dealings between her and the Alliance given that they were her most prominent employer, but she was as vicious as she felt she needed to be when it came to keeping her secrets safe.</p><p>“Hm. And Captain Owings?”</p><p>“Oh, she’s an old acquaintance you know. One of the few important pirates round here who don’t want my head for going legit or owing them money. Didn’t know the deal with the Horde came with a mutiny against ol’ Rhenik, the Fogsail have been a bit isolated this last year. But just as well, his greed often got the better of him. Owings is a good sort. Smart. Thinks ahead. Cares about her crew. Honours her deals. She’ll likely use her favour to bail some of hers out of trouble somewhere down the line, so don’t worry about that.”</p><p>“And the wedding?”</p><p>“You’d know as much about that as I do, mate. No idea what that was about.”</p><p>“Hm.” Shaw was vaguely reassured and fatigue was catching up to him. Further briefing could wait until the morning, now he needed to get back and report his failure to Wyrmbane. But Fairwind seemed to have something to say about that.</p><p>“You look dead on your feet, mate. You sure you wanna walk all the way back?”</p><p>“Have no choice I’m afraid.”</p><p>“Look, no one will be happy if you pass out. Why don’t you come over to my place for the night and catch a bit of sleep? You’re not expected to be back yet anyway, right?”</p><p>It was tempting. The shame over the whole affair stung and the fatigue made it worse and no one could be as non-judgemental as Captain Fairwind. His sense of duty compelled him to hesitate for a bit, but he gave in.</p><p>“Alright. Lead the way Captain.”</p><p>Fairwind broke into a wide grin and grabbed him by the wrist. Strangely, it didn’t bother Shaw. Something about this situation tugged at his attention, telling him that there was something he should notice about it. But it didn’t ring of danger and he was very tired. He would deal with it in the morning.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Day Two - Day Off</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Shaw doesn't like getting the day off, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't take it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Shaw had walked into his office that morning, he had been greeted by Renzik yelling: “What are you doing here? It’s your day off!” And when he had tried to explain to him that he didn’t care for off days and would like to do his job, the goblin had cheerfully explained that the king was getting worried over his eyebags and paleness and ordered them to send him home to relax should he show up. Shaw had opted to keep his more uncharitable thoughts - about the brat just feeling guilty about having him shoulder most of his more crucial efforts for the ending of the war with little thanks and then yelling at him for things beyond his control - to himself. They were probably somewhat unfounded regardless, the king was a healer after all.</p><p>Now he found himself without something to do and unsettled by the feeling. In the past years, he had spent his off days generally in infirmary beds. His work was his life and he had no interest in putting it to the side when it wasn’t absolutely necessary. He paced more than he walked along the canals, his mood not improving with his thoughts, when he almost bumped into a warlock.</p><p>“Oh, Master Shaw. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“It’s fine” Shaw grumbled and made to move along.</p><p>“Is something the matter?”</p><p>He stopped, giving an unimpressed glare. But the man seemed genuinely worried.</p><p>SI:7 had observation files on all known Alliance warlocks, that was simply procedure. Shaw knew most of those who were successful adventurers by name and sight. The warlock in front of him now, due in part to several health issues, in part to a relatively cautious nature, barely qualified for that category, but Shaw knew him nonetheless. Some years ago the file on him had disappeared and showed up again days later without any sign as to how, but since he had the privilege of a certain Yutar Shadereaver’s friendship, and therefore loyalty, Shaw could make an educated guess. Aside from that he was no trouble at all, far more agreeable than his friend and with no strikes against him, even in terms of the more common and inoffensive crimes associated with warlocks. So Shaw deemed it safe to give an explanation to assuage the man’s worry.</p><p>“I’m on a forced leave. King’s orders.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>This was fortunately accepted as a reason for a foul mood without further questions.</p><p>“Perhaps you should take it as an opportunity then”, the warlock offered. “Do something you never had time for? Visit someone you haven’t seen in a while? Surely there is something.”</p><p>Decidedly not interested in a longer conversation with one of Shadereaver’s friends, Shaw muttered “I’ll think about it” and went on his way.</p><hr/><p>Despite himself, Shaw found himself thinking about it. There was nothing he wanted to do beside work. But seeing people was another matter. Baros was dead. Visiting Jorach or Tethys would take up more than a day, even if he were so inclined and there was no way he was explaining to his grandmother that the king sent him on leave because the strain showed. (She probably knew anyway, but that was beside the point.) But there actually was someone he wanted to see and so, on a whim, he took the portal to Boralus and ended up looking across the harbour with no idea where to find that person or if he was even available. He sighed. Fairwind seemed to inspire these fits of impulsivity in him and he had by now come to terms with his attraction enough that he didn’t waste any energy getting too frustrated about it. He would simply see if the Middenwake was in harbour and if she was he could ask around where to find her captain.</p><hr/><p>A short time later Shaw found both the Middenwake and her Captain. The ship was anchored, her sails rolled up and her crew nowhere in sight, but Captain Fairwind was on deck. He wandered around muttering, occasionally taking notes on a clipboard of all things. It was an odd sight.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Shaw blurted out before he could think better of it.</p><p>Fairwind’s head shot up and he almost dropped the clipboard.</p><p>“Shaw??! What the blazes are you doing here? I mean, not that I’m not happy to see you, but shouldn’t you be somewhere doing spy-things on the mainland?”</p><p>Shaw sighed. Fairwind seriously impaired his ability to think things through.</p><p>“I’ve got a day off.”</p><p>“So you came to see me of all people? Blimey, I’m flattered.”</p><p>He looked seriously baffled. Shaw suddenly felt nervous, but couldn’t make sense of why. So he plunged on.</p><p>“You seem busy, Captain. I can leave if it is a bad time.”</p><p>“Oh, no no, not at all”, Fairwind scrambled to assure him. “I was just doing some check-ups, but they aren’t actually due for a while. Got nothing to do today either and I was bored, and it’s a bit early for hitting the tavern, so… uh… maybe we can get some late breakfast together?”</p><p>Shaw gave this some thought. He had wanted to see Fairwind, but the thought of finding some café and eating surrounded by strangers didn’t appeal to him at all.</p><p>“Permission to come aboard, Captain?”</p><p>“What? Oh, yes, yes, of course.”</p><p>Judging by the way he fiddled with his pen, Fairwind was nervous as well. He avoided Shaw’s gaze as the Spymaster came aboard.</p><p>“So, uh, did you have something in mind?”</p><p>“No, not at all”, Shaw admitted.</p><p>“Okay. Well, I do have some coffee down in my bunk, and a pack of cards, maybe…?”</p><p>That sounded a lot more agreeable than venturing out into the city. With a shrug Shaw assented to it.</p><hr/><p>Fairwind’s “bunk” was his quarters on the Middenwake. The ship even had a small kitchen, and that was where the Captain had sat Shaw down on a table and gone to make coffee. With something planned now, both of their nerves seemed to settle and Fairwind happily chattered away about what all his crewmembers and Tae had been up to lately. It was… nice. Shaw had a faint notion of strangeness about how content he felt, but not enough to disrupt the feeling.</p><p>A wave of fatigue suddenly swept over him. He didn’t feel faint exactly, but he couldn’t register Fairwind’s words anymore, and he might just fall asleep right here on the table…</p><p>“Shaw? Shaw, are you all right?”</p><p>The worry in Fairwind’s tone jolted him awake immediately. His first thought was that he might have been drugged, but he hadn’t actually ingested anything today aside from his own breakfast and woke far too easily for that. He stared at Fairwind, who seemed to find this even more worrisome.</p><p>“Shaw?” he asked carefully.</p><p>“I was… very tired, suddenly?” Shaw offered hesitantly. He wasn’t sure what was happening to him, and while his fear was somewhat assuaged by a lack of worrying signals from his body, it unsettled him.</p><p>Fairwind on the other hand relaxed a bit.</p><p>“Now, that doesn’t surprise me. Have you looked into a mirror lately?”</p><p>Shaw gave him an affronted look.</p><p>“Hey, don’t be like that mate. You’re only human, right? And from what your champions have said, I got the impression that you have worked on life-or-death things non-stop for the past two years without a break. Of course it catches up on you eventually.”</p><p>Shaw continued to stare. It was true that the past two years had been work-intensive, but that hadn’t particularly bothered him. He was used to little sleep and unhappy if he had nothing to do. And he had felt overwhelmed only once, when he was injured and malnourished after a long period of captivity. Why would he break down now?</p><p>“Look, how about we’ll bundle you up in my bed so you can catch up on some sleep? I’ll go get us some groceries and wake you for supper, and tomorrow you’ll go back to your Alliance and tell them that you need a longer vacation. Maybe then we can go hiking somewhere or whatever, maybe Tae will have an idea. How’s that sound?”</p><p>Farwind fixed him with a questioning look. Shaw blinked at him and suddenly it fell into place. Of course, he should have known if he remembered his training on optimal resting and a few related things. Adrenaline, necessity could keep one alert for a very long time if one was trained for it, but now he felt safe. Here, around the intrepid, infuriating Captain Flynn Fairwind, his body had deemed it safe to shut down. It appeared he really needed that vacation.</p><p>“Alright Captain, I’ll take you up on that.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Day Three - Drink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After a stressful day Shaw takes Flynn to his favourite tavern.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm quite proud of the idea behind this chapter. And it has no OCs this time either. Still not beta-ed though.<br/></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As far as Flynn was concerned, it had been a good day. Stormwind was a bustling city with all sorts of people from all sorts of races milling about and Flynn was a sailor. Travelling was in his blood and therefore he liked the excitement of seeing new places and meeting new people, at least if they didn’t want to shank him. His boyfriend had been called for some internal emergency, but he should show up soon, the sun was already setting.</p><p>He was rifling through the recipes Cyrus had given him to decide what he would make for dinner when Mathias Shaw returned home. He turned to ask him what he thought of salmon and potatoes, but stopped when he saw his face.</p><p>“I need a drink”, Shaw snapped in lieu of a greeting.</p><p>“That bad, huh?”</p><p>The spymaster plopped down onto the nearest chair with a choked-off groan. Flynn took it as a yes.</p><p>“I don’t think you have anything here, mate. The only alcohol I found was for cleaning.”</p><p>He had hoped Shaw would rise to the implication that he had searched his home for drink, but he didn’t even react to it. That meant he’d had a really bad day and Flynn knew better than to push for a playful argument, or, light forbid, ask him about it. Maybe he would tell him, later, if he felt up to it, but asking was a bad idea.</p><p>“Fairwind, what do you think about going to a tavern now and having some leftovers later?”</p><p>Flynn’s eyebrows wandered upwards. That was more a him-suggestion than a Shaw-one.</p><p>“Well, I wouldn’t be complaining.”</p><p>“Good.” Shaw stood up and reached for his wallet. “Let’s go then.”</p><p>Flynn followed him, a mix of bewilderment and excitement in his gut.</p><hr/><p>“So, this is your favourite tavern?”</p><p>They were in an out-of-the-way corner of the mage district, of all places, and had just passed by a seemingly permanently-entrenched group of demon hunters. The unremarkable and slightly aged-looking building in front of them bore the rather inviting sign “The Slaughtered Lamb”. Thankfully, there was no picture.</p><p>“As far as I have such a thing”, Shaw grumbled and stepped inside.</p><p>Ah, there was some glimpse of the usual grumpy spy. With some trepidation but a much larger amount of curiosity Flynn followed him.</p><p>It wasn’t the seediest establishment he had ever been to, but that was largely because it was more or less clean. Dimly lit and with a low, slightly shabby wooden ceiling, two narrow, forbidding doors with large, if currently open, locking bolts in the back, a small group of tables in a shadowed corner and a bar made of a plank and some empty barrels with no stools the place made a decidedly dreary impression. On top of that, the pub was completely empty save for a death knight leaning at the bar and giving off a bit of a chill. He gave them a disinterested nod and continued to stare at nothing.</p><p>Flynn was about to ask if there was a barkeeper around here when someone came through one of the backroom doors. It was a dark-haired woman in perhaps her early thirties, carrying a lidded can with both hands.</p><p>“Found it”, she chirped cheerfully, then stopped when she noticed Shaw and Flynn.</p><p>“Oh, good evening Master Shaw. And friend. Shall I fetch Zardeth for you?”</p><p>“That is not necessary, I’m just here for a drink”, Shaw said, moving to lean at the bar not too far away from the death knight. “Is Moor not here today?”</p><p>“He took a holiday this week. What can I bring you?”</p><p>“The usual please.”</p><p>She nodded and took her position behind the bar. “And for you, sir?”</p><p>Flynn took a moment to realize she had addressed him, having just managed to place her faint accent as from Lordaeron.</p><p>“Wha-? Uh, I’m having whatever Shaw’s having.”</p><p>She nodded again and started rummaging around the space behind the bar, producing three large cups and several bottles, as well as something that looked vaguely like a pepper mill. What followed seemed like a complex alchemical procedure and also involved the lidded can she had brought from the backroom.</p><p>Somewhat hesitantly Flynn took a spot at the bar that placed him between Shaw and the death knight, as any other position would have put him an impractical and sort-of rude distance away from the barkeeper. One look at his boyfriend confirmed that he was still not fit for some pestering yet, so he was left to watch the barkeeper work in silence. He was relieved to notice that two of the cups received a relatively simple mixture consisting mainly of whisky, and the pepper mill and the can were only used for the last one which was likely for the death knight.</p><p>When the barkeeper handed out the drinks she noticed Flynn’s discomfort and took pity on him.</p><p>“So you’re a friend of Master Shaw? Sounds like you’re from Kul Tiras.”</p><p>Flynn gratefully jumped at her offer of a conversation. “Yes ma’am. Captain Flynn Fairwind at your service.”</p><p>She smiled. “Nice to meet you, Captain Fairwind. I’m Leryssa.”</p><p>“So you are Captain Fairwind? Lady Fordragon’s friend?”</p><p>Turing in confusion Flynn found himself looking directly into the eyes of the death knight, confirming that the soft-spoken question had indeed come from him.</p><p>The appearance of death knights, in Flynn’s experience, ranged from “not recognizable as undead if it weren’t for the eyes” to “monster from the iciest corners of hell” and this was only tangentially related to the armour they might choose to wear. This particular specimen was far on the monster-end of the spectrum. He was recognizable as a human male, but only just. Aside from a crooked nose and a bit of forehead, most of his face that wasn’t covered in a premature white, shaggy mane and beard was instead obscured by dark, menacing and likely permanent markings vaguely reminiscent of batwings. It made his face hard to read and his death-age impossible to discern.</p><p>Flynn had spend considerable amounts of time with pirates, other lowlifes of various kinds, Alliance adventurers and death knights who were Alliance adventurers, so he knew very well that appearance was absolutely no indication for any such person’s temperament. His uneasiness and determination to stay at an at least workable distance from a death knight at a bar came from the hard-earned knowledge that one better doesn’t bother adventurers, especially death knights, when they were at recreational spaces such as bars. It was nevertheless jarring to hear a voice like this come from that kind of creepy face. Although it had some inherent roughness and the strange reverb typical for his kind, the man spoke in such a soft, quiet tone that the overall effect would still be more fit to a shy, gentle older priest.</p><p>In any case, it was still probably a bad idea to be rude.</p><p>“Uh, yeah, that would be me, yes.”</p><p>“Ah. So what brings you to Stormwind, Captain Fairwind?”</p><p>Flynn got the vague impression that the death knight too was trying to be polite. A look out of the corner of his eyes told him that the barkeeper was following this turn of events with a slightly bemused and rather curious expression.</p><p>“Oh, nothing terribly important. Seeing the world, spending some time with my friend Shaw, that sort of thing. And yourself?”</p><p>“Me?” The man looked over to Leryssa the barkeeper and gave Flynn a lopsided and awkward-looking smile. “I’m visiting my sister.”</p><p>A questioning look to Leryssa confirmed that yes, he meant her.</p><p>“Huh. You don’t look at all alike.”</p><p>Flynn regretted the comment immediately, but the woman laughed.</p><p>“Yes, and we never have. It has confused a lot of people when we were little.”</p><p>“Tell me Captain”, the death knight interjected, still speaking softly but noticeably intent to kill off that particular direction of conversation, “how fares the Lady Fordragon?”</p><p>“She’s fine, far as I know. Chipper as ever.”</p><p>“In good health I would hope?”</p><p>“Uh, sure? Never had any problems while I’ve known her.”</p><p>This death knight seemed awfully interested in Taelia despite Flynn having never seen him before and therefore being fairly certain she hadn’t either. His sister seemed to be of the same opinion.</p><p>“It’s not like you to be this interested in someone, Thass. Has she made that much of an impression?”</p><p>“The Ebon Knights serving in Kul Tiras were quite taken with her, yes.”</p><p>“She does that all right”, Flynn muttered, somewhat reassured.</p><p>Leryssa smiled and Flynn found himself amazed and endeared to watch her reach out and ruffle the undead murder machine’s hair without the slightest hint of hesitation. It bore it stoically.</p><p>“So, uh…” Flynn cleared his throat. “Thass, was it?”</p><p>“Thassarian”, the death knight replied patiently. “Only my sister calls me Thass.”</p><p>“Ah, okay, Thassarian. Should I tell Tae that you have asked after her?”</p><p>Thassarian shrugged. “If you want to.”</p><p>“Those other death knights like her a lot, do they?”</p><p>“Yes. And we also have worked with her father. Back in Northrend.”</p><p>Ah, that might explain it. “He was quite a big deal, huh?”</p><p>At that the death knight chuckled bitterly. “That is one way to put it.”</p><p>Flynn raised an eyebrow, but Thassarian said nothing further. When he shot Leryssa a questioning look, she merely shrugged. He decided to drop the subject. The death knights’ reasons for asking after Tae seemed harmless enough and bringing down the mood was the last thing he wanted.</p><p>“Say, how would you like to hear a story about Tae saving my ass? You could tell it to the others, and she wouldn’t be mad at me for telling you something a few adventurers already know.”</p><p>He would have liked it better to rile up Shaw in one way or other, but with him clearly needing some quiet time, here was a way to have at least some fun this evening.</p><p>Thassarian was surprised enough by the offer that it showed on his face.</p><p>“I’d be honoured, Captain Fairwind” he said and it sounded like he meant it.</p><p>That was an opportunity you didn’t get every day. An eager glimmer in his eyes, Flynn cleared his throat and reached for his cup.</p><p>“DON’T DRINK THAT!”</p><p>Too late, Thassarian’s bellowed warning, his voice now sounding much more like a frozen hell-beast’s snarl, only resulted in giving Flynn a scare and having him choke on the gulp already in his mouth. He doubled over coughing and spitting, the cup dropped somewhere, and he ended up kneeling on the floor and clawing frantically at his tongue. The concoction burned like fire in his mouth, in his throat, and some of it had gotten up his nose and now seared his sinuses. The tears welling up in his eyes completely blinded him and a metallic taste faintly noticeable under all the fire made him suspect his mouth was bleeding.</p><p>“Flynn!” Shaws voice was right next to him and sounded uncharacteristically frightened. A hand grabbed his shoulder. Then the spymaster rallied somewhat.</p><p>“What happened?” he snapped.</p><p>“He grabbed my drink by accident.” Thassarian’s voice was thankfully much closer to his soft-spoken tone again.</p><p>“Oh dear”, Leryssa blurted out.</p><p>“Is it poisonous?” Shaw asked.</p><p>“No, not poisonous, exactly” Leryssa started awkwardly, “but it does contain a very generous helping of dried, ground-up ghost pepper. The hottest spice on Azeroth. It won’t kill him, but I hope he swallowed nothing of it, or he’ll have a very unpleasant night ahead of him.”</p><p>Judging by the way a trail of fire leading from Flynn’s throat all the way down into his stomach, he did swallow some of it.</p><p>“I think my mouth is bleeding”, he managed to croak out.</p><p>Shaw grabbed his chin to check.</p><p>“Oh, that his just the ox blood”, Leryssa said.</p><p>Flynn gagged.</p><p>“Ox blood.” Shaw didn’t sigh, but he sounded like he wanted to.</p><p>“I came up with this when my brother told me he could only really taste rot, blood, ash and spice for some reason. I met a cook once who said it might be because spice is technically pain and not a flavour. Anyway, I took a while to get the mixture right, but basically I take some spirits for the right amount of alcohol and the right consistency and then put in ghost pepper and whatever animal blood I could get from the butcher, and that was ox this week. Death knights love it, but… well… it’s not really fit for consumption for the living.”</p><p>That was just Flynn’s flavour of luck by the sound of it. Wouldn’t kill him, but was unpleasant and embarrassing. And gross of course.</p><p>By now his vision had cleared up enough that he could look at Shaw’s pale, worried face.</p><p>”’m sorry mate” he mumbled hoarsely.</p><p>“What are you sorry for? Come, get up.”</p><p>Shaw hauled him onto his feet, not that it was necessary. His mouth, nose and throat were still smouldering, waves of heat washed through his body and he was sweating, but he could stand just fine. His vision was watery, but he could see what he needed to, and some things he didn’t, like that he had made quite a mess. Both him basically throwing the cup, and him spitting its contents out had splashed the red swill liberally over the bar, the floor and his clothes.</p><p>“I’ve made a mess” he stated with a shake grin.</p><p>“Oh don’t worry about it, I can mop this up no problem”, Leryssa was quick to reassure him. “Please sit down over there, I get you something to wash out your mouth. Did you swallow anything?”</p><p>“A bit”, Flynn admitted weakly.</p><p>Shaw sighed. Leryssa winced in sympathy.</p><p>“Ah. Well, that will be a bit unpleasant, that stuff is said to burn all the way through your entire digestive tract, but you should be fine by tomorrow. See a healer if you aren’t.”</p><p>Flynn sat down by a table, Shaw staying close as if afraid he would fall over.</p><p>“Hey now”, Flynn told him, “it’s really not so bad. You heard her, ‘s just unpleasant, nothing more.”</p><p>Shaw made a non-committal sound, but he sat down in the next chair.</p><p>“Thass? Would you mind going out and getting the man some bread?” Leryssa called to her brother as she slipped through the backroom door.</p><p>“Of course” the death knight said and left the tavern unceremoniously.</p><p>Rummaging could be heard, then Leryssa ducked back into the bar room again and placed a small bucket next to Flynn before handing him a bottle of something very alcoholic.<br/>“Better spit the first few mouthfuls out again, no point getting more spice into your stomach. Don’t worry, it’s on the house.”</p><p>Gratefully, Flynn grabbed the bottle and started rinsing his mouth. Introducing liquid to his spice-ravaged mouth made the burning worse at first, but the thought of cleaning out the cocktail partially made of animal blood made it bearable. Leryssa meanwhile grabbed another bucket and a rag and started cleaning up.</p><p>A few mouthfuls later, Flynn still felt hot and a little bit faint and pale, but he deemed it enough for now. He looked over to Shaw, who was watching him with a closed-off expression.</p><p>“You all right there mate?”</p><p>Shaw snorted incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be asking yourself that?”</p><p>“Look, I’ll really be fine, but you looked like to have a really bad day and now this happened…”</p><p>The Spymaster’s disbelieving stare made him go quiet.</p><p>“Is that why you have been so distant all evening?”</p><p>Flynn blinked in surprise, and dismay. “I just thought you needed some space…”</p><p>The relief was visible in Shaw’s posture.</p><p>“Let’s just put it on record for future reference that if I need space, I will let you know Captain.”</p><p>He shot a surreptitious glance towards Leryssa, who was gamely pretending that the process of cleaning took up all of her attention, before leaning in with a small, somewhat exasperated smile, placing a hand on the nape of Flynn’s neck.</p><p>“But I appreciate the sentiment”, he added quietly and planted a kiss on Flynn’s forehead. Flynn couldn’t blame him for avoiding his mouth right now.</p><p>“Alright mate. I promise not to neglect you on an assumption anymore.” Flynn grinned.</p><p>Shaw rolled his eyes, likely unwilling to admit out loud that he had indeed felt neglected. In the interest of both of their pride, Flynn decided to change the subject.</p><p>“So what were your plans for this evening, Master Shaw?”</p><p>“Nothing terribly specific. I wanted to take you to this pub.” Shaw shrugged.</p><p>“Huh. Why is that?”</p><p>“I don’t think I need to explain the merits of a tavern to you, Captain.”</p><p>“No, I mean… Why specifically this one?”</p><p>“I suppose I prefer this one to others.”</p><p>Flynn laughed. “Tell you what mate, we’ll get you another drink, and then you can tell me all about this place and why you like it, how’s that sound?”</p><p>“Alright, why not?”</p><hr/><p>The drink provided, Shaw started a quite methodical account of pretty much everything about the tavern, starting with its owner and founding through its short but notable history all the way through its current staff and clientele. Leryssa chimed in on occasion until Thassarian returned with a loaf of bread and her attention was occupied with him. Flynn chewed his bread without any coverings, since taste was a moot point anyhow. The symptoms of what he privately called spice poisoning, - nothing that he would say out loud in the presence of Shaw – were still very much present, but they were easy to ignore as Shaw did most of the talking and he found himself listening raptly despite the decidedly Shaw-like manner of tale-telling.</p><p>It was not hard to understand why Shaw liked the Slaughtered Lamb: It was quiet. The establishment was owned by a prominent warlock named Zardeth who had made the basement the primary meeting and training ground for Alliance-affiliated warlocks and that was its primary purpose. The employed barkeepers served drinks and Zardeth liked it as much as anyone when they made money, but their primary job was keeping people he wanted to stay out of the basement out of the basement. Their most important qualification was therefore discretion, another thing Shaw liked.</p><p>Around the time of King Varian’s infamous abduction the Slaughtered Lamb’s purpose as the local warlock base had become public knowledge and it had subsequently lost a lot of its previous regulars. SI:7 had had an eye on the place long before that of course, and the warlocks had always known that. A combination of that and the more general knowledge that they were only tolerated in this nation ensured that no one ever caused a scene in this place, even on the rare occasion someone would actually get seriously drunk.</p><p>With the addition of Leryssa and her blood-and-spice brew around the time the Northrend campaign wrapped up, the Slaughtered Lamb established itself as the go-to tavern of warlocks of course, death knights, adventurers who liked quiet and/or were friends with warlocks and death knights, the occasional SI:7 agent and more recently demon hunters. It was in short the tavern where all those went who wanted to have a drink in quiet or didn’t want to be gawked at or even accosted by the more typical brand of patron. There were rarely many people at once here, as it was open for 20 hours a day and its regulars didn’t exactly have nine-to-five days, but even if there were, the loudest it had ever gotten according to Shaw was a group of sober and actually talented people singing songs.</p><p>Flynn found he could see the appeal. He was right at home in regular taverns, and even irregularly seedy and rowdy ones, but there was something to be said about a place that was well and truly and without exception a refuge. And while one could meet a lot of interesting people in taverns, one could likely meet a lot of interesting people here that would otherwise never be found in taverns, at least not off their given job. Like Shaw for example.</p><p>He resolved to come here more often. After all he still had Shaw’s favourite drink to try with his taste buds intact.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ghost pepper is a real thing, Kripparian has a video where he eats a bit of it and feels sick for the rest of the day.<br/>The idea of Leryssa working at the Slaughtered Lamb, after all Jarel Moor needs to go home sometimes, and making special drinks for death knights was one I had for a while. I came up with it in the context of my OCs of course, because I, and therefore they, love this place. </p><p>I'm having a lot of fun showing little corners of Azeroth through Flynn and/or Shaw's eyes. The next chapter might take a while and it will be a little darker, but it will contain Flynn showing his mettle, so I'll be happy to have you back for that one as well.</p>
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